Slowly Story  
Chrizzlybear | πŸ‡©πŸ‡ͺ Germany

It was on a stormy and rainy night. Some thunder was to hear every now and then. Amidst the pandemic, it was a silent and frustrating time. Melancholic thoughts set the tone in my head. All I wanted that night was to throw out my thoughts into the world, and I wanted to give one person the chance to read it. I expected no answer though, I just wanted to know my thoughts out there.

So I chose Gia, she had a nice description. She seemed curious, honest and brave. And I wrote to her:


Your description sounds so lovely.

I have some thoughts that I’d like to share tonight, and I chose you, Gia, to be the one human on this planet to read them before they leave into the emptiness of the endless realms of forgotten words.

It is raining, some lightning, some thunder after a very hot period. Do you know these evenings when you are happy that it gets a little bit cooler?

But this night is different. It is the first time I want to see and hear it because every thunderstruck makes me happy. I am not spiritual, but somehow after working a lot and knowing a lot, it changes nothing in who or what I am. No matter where I lived or where you are, rain and thunder make us equal. More even than that, at the moment we are blinded by the flash and deaf through the thunder, can we even say for sure we are not in the same place. What is the difference between here and there is no longer existing in the world of thunderstorms? We are limited to our senses and try to transcendent our limitations by our reason. But what we are trying to flee of is being what we are to what we are not.

I watch the balcony opposite to my apartment and see the many lights they put there. Why did they do it? What does it mean to them, and what do these lights give them that they cannot feel or possess without them?
This thunderstorm is nothing more than a thunderstorm to the world, but it is the world to me.”

Despite my expectations, an answer was on its way quite fast. Only two days later, I read her answer. A wonderful letter, with the question of why I chose her and a beautiful image she drew in my head of her sitting on her rooftop watching all the stars in the sky with a nice warm coffee.

I immediately fell in love with this image and answered honestly that there was no big reason for my choice except for a feeling in my heart while I read her description.

It felt like there was something between us and the feeling was right. We began to write a romantic fantasy story (and even drew pictures for each other) of a native prince on a fantasy island (β€˜Bear’) and a girl from afar distanced land who came there by ship and was lost with her little lion baby. Bear takes care of her and saves her from every trouble, and as the love between them grew, the love between us grew too. We had a compromise to continue and enjoy our letters as long as possible until she feels the need to write me to my phone on a messenger app. We enjoyed our philosophy of beautiful messages, and we were exchanging about how and where we see the beauty in everyday things. We called it the bubble, the bubble of beauty. We got to know each other more and more, and everything I got to know about her made me fall deeper in love, and she told me the same later. One day after I wrote her another letter with all my love inside, she wrote me a message on my phone number I gave her before. We were both a bit shy at the beginning and a little concerned that it would be a different feeling with instant messages, but it was not. We only fell deeper in love, and the story continues. Every day, I love her more and more, and she tells me the same. I am endlessly thankful for my decision to use Slowly and write her this message. I am convinced that letters can have a very special magic for people. Maybe sometimes it requires you to put your heart inside and send it out to the world.

Gia, you are my only exception.

Merry Christmas to everyone,

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